The Offer
by AliuIce0814
Summary: Based upon Catherine Jinks's Pagan Chronicles. Jordan watches Pagan sleep and comes to a decision. Set during Pagan in Exile. One-sided canonical slash.


Based off the Pagan Chronicles by Catherine Jinks, and set during _Pagan in Exile_, this story is from Jordan's point of view.

* * *

It's odd. For all the times that I've cursed Roland, he's turned out to be a gift, if only because he brought this one to Bram.

Pagan Kidrouk, the Christian Arab that my brother picked up as a squire in Jerusalem. Those dark, expressive eyes are always watchful, and his tongue is as sharp as his cheekbones. He has a wit that could match any statesman's intellect and prevail.

God, he's so beautiful.

He mumbles in his sleep. I know this because I'm watching him this very moment from the doorway to his room. I wonder what he's dreaming. Judging by the way his brow knits, I'd say his night-thoughts aren't pleasant. What's hurt him so much that he dreams about it?

He turns a little, and the dark hair falls over his eyelids. He needs a haircut. I'd be more than willing to give him one, but somehow I think my dear younger brother wouldn't approve.

Roland. Lord Roland Roucy de Bram. There he is, in the bed across from Pagan's. I could choke him right now, I suppose. I could throttle him in his sleep, but it wouldn't do any good. I'd wake Pagan, and that wouldn't do. He's much too loyal to Roland to have any clemency for an act like that.

Why? What on earth does Pagan see in my brother? Lord knows Roland doesn't treat him well enough. He's always leaving the boy—the man, really; he's grown even since he came here, to Bram—behind, always ignoring him and leaving him to clean up his messes.

Pagan deserves better. He's beautiful, erudite, practical, and witty. He certainly shouldn't be trapped in a place like Bram. He shouldn't be here at all. No, Pagan Kidrouk belongs somewhere safe, away from wars and inbreeding and my family in general. He deserves a refuge, with thousands upon thousands of those books he loves so much and, more importantly, someone who loves him.

Baal's balls!

I could take Pagan to Suriac with me. I could have him be with me. I could have him be _mine. _I'm sick of this stinking place anyway. We could stay in Suriac, away from all of these fools.

He'd never come, though, not even if I asked.

Or would he?

The other day, when he was helping me train the hawk…I swear I saw something there. Maybe I wished it there, but I thought I saw something in Pagan's eyes, in the way he moved, in the way he talked. Something that said he feels the same about me.

He's been fighting with Roland. They were fighting about me. I heard them when Roland came to drag Pagan away. As they were leaving, Pagan was trying to convince my brother that I wasn't as terrible as I was made out to be. Now, I know I can't have made that bit up.

God's teeth, I should ask him.

Damn! The floorboard creaks. Pagan moans in his sleep. His eyelashes flutter open for a moment, and those liquid dark eyes stare straight at me.

Don't say a word, Pagan. Don't say anything. Roland will gut me—not that I mind fighting my brother; as long as I get a punch or two in on him, it's simple to gain the advantage.

"My lord?"

Damn, damn, damn. Is he talking to me, or is he calling Roland?

Pagan frowns. He sits up in bed, and the sheets tumble off his shoulders. _Christ. _That_ body… _

I'm lucky it's as dark as pitch in here. Otherwise there would be no way to hide my _feelings_ about that boy.

"Lord Jordan?" Pagan's waking up more now. He runs a hand over his eyes. "My lord, it's very late. If you want to talk to Lord Roland—"

"No!" I can't help but to laugh at that. Pagan's eyes narrow, and if looks could kill, I'd be six feet under. "By God! That look! No, I don't want speak with my brother. I try it avoid it, actually. Forced speech is an occupational hazard of being Roland's brother.

"No, Pagan, it can wait. I apologize for waking you." Hmm. Can I make him blush? Could I even see it in this darkness? "Your dreams must have been very interesting, judging by what you were saying."

Aha! That was a fascinating reaction. Pagan must have been having a good dream, then, instead of a nightmare as I assumed. After a minute, Pagan rolls his eyes and snuggles back beneath the covers. "Go away. Leave. Shoo shoo!"

"Pagan, Pagan, Pagan. All right. I'll leave you alone." For now, anyway. I'll have something to offer you in the morning. "Incidentally, Pagan," I throw over my shoulder, "you should get a hawk of your own. You're very good at training them."

Though I can't tell if it's a comment aimed at me, or if Pagan has already slipped back into one of his dreams, the voice that I can't get out of my head mumbles something in reply. I stride to my room and sit on the bed by the wife I just can't get rid of. If it were Pagan in bed next to me, I'd never be cold again.

We'll see, though. In the morning, everything may change. If Pagan accepts this offer, this book that has been gathering dust will finally have a voice. If Pagan accepts my proposition, he'll never be alone again.

I'll make him a happy man the way Roland never could. Lord Roland Roucy de Bram will never love Pagan Kidrouk as much as I do.

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Reviews, of course, are always welcome. Constructive criticism is encouraged because there is always room for improvement.

If you are a fan of Pagan, then please contribute to the fandom by writing and posting stories!

Love y'all,

Icey.


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